


The Clearweber Chronicles

by ratbastardfics



Category: Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: BAMF Leah Clearwater, Bisexuality, F/F, Fluff, Gay, Leah/Angela - Freeform, Lesbian Character, Slow Burn, Wholesome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:41:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29299077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratbastardfics/pseuds/ratbastardfics
Summary: Angela Weber X Leah Clearwater FicTakes place approximately 3 years after Breaking Dawn
Relationships: Leah Clearwater/Angela Weber, Sue Clearwater/Charlie Swan
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	The Clearweber Chronicles

College at Washington State hadn’t exactly gone as Angela Weber had planned. Ben left her shortly into freshman year--joining a fraternity and subsequently joining ranks with them as they teased Angela for her height. Angela always knew she was tall and really never needed to be reminded of that but that didn’t seem to stop them. She got contacts and joined the swim team, trying to find a sense of home, but instead found that, at least in this specific case, her team was not necessarily interested in quiet nights in or study session during which studying was actually an activity people committed to--the Washington State girls swim team never wanted to talk about their families or have classical-adaptation-movie-marathons. So, in turn, there went 3 ½ years of laborious studying and countless hours of hard work in order to allow for early graduation. While her degree qualified her as a pediatric nurse practitioner, her father still took that as enough to call her home in order to care for her mother who had recently been diagnosed with early-onset dementia. Mr. Weber ad tried to take on the full responsibility as he would never put that pressure on his only daughter if he had another choice, but fulfilling his job as a pastor and his job as a father to his two younger children left almost no time in his schedule at all, let alone any time to function as a full-time in-home caretaker. He kept this news from Angela as long as possible so as not to distract her from her schoolwork but as soon as she found out--by her brother’s admission no less--she insisted on helping in whatever way she could. Initially, her father had simply asked her to help him find a full-time nurse, but as this would undoubtedly result in her family being forced to declare bankruptcy, Angela informed him that there was no need. Her father wasn’t dumb--he knew pediatrics didn’t mean adults--but he also knew he didn’t have many choices. So, as soon as she snagged her degree from the university, Angela bought a bus ticket back to Forks.   
And that’s where she was now. Crunched into a too-tight bus seat, surely built for someone of slighter stature, and looking out the window at the passing street-signs and miscellaneous buildings. Angela wasn’t necessarily looking forward to heading back to Forks. Her college experience hadn’t been full of exciting stories to write home about and, while she was excited to see her family, she hadn’t kept her high school comrades up to date on what had been going on in her life. It was embarrassing to her. She was positive Jessica Stanley had had amazing experiences and Mike Newton was never one to shy away from sharing his own stories. If anyone could find ways to talk about working at their family’s retail store, it was assuredly Mike. Eric Yorkie had been to school near Forks and Angela was sure he’d made his mark on that social scene.   
Lost in thought about the inevitability of her old friends having remarkable tales to tell, Angela hardly noticed the bus pulling to a stop just outside of Forks High School. “Home of the Spartans,” the familiar sign read. In Greece, Spartans were known to be ferocious warriors. Fear was not accepted, mistakes were punished. Truth be told, Angela wasn’t feeling very ferocious, rather fear and mistakes felt more like the proper vocabulary to summarize her mindset.  
Looking to the right of the sign, Angela couldn’t help but smile as she caught sight of her twin brothers: Joshua and Isaac. They were waving their arms wildly at her. She couldn’t imagine either of these kids feeling even an ounce of fear: she envied that. Joshua and Isaac had just turned 13. At the very least, thought Angela, I’ll get to see their teenage years. She loved her brothers more than she loved most people in her life.  
Stepping off the bus, bag in hand, Angela hugged her loved ones, finding herself anxious for familiarity.   
“We stole your room after you left.” Isaac had a smile on his face despite what he was saying.  
“Yeah, for a game room! But now you’re home so we can all play together.” Josh seemed to always accentuate the “sweet” in the word “bittersweet.”  
“But we can clear that stuff out if you don’t want to.” Isaac sounded like he meant it, but Angela knew both of her brothers were hoping to keep whatever portion of her room they’d confiscated.  
“I’d love to play games with you guys.” Angela smiled at her brothers affectionately. She then looked over to her dad, he stood mere feet away, watching his children reunite after years of being apart. Angela had wanted to visit more, but in order to fast track, she stayed at school. There was also that fear of running into people from her past which she now felt all too entirely guilty for.  
“Hey, pumpkin.” Even his voice sounded full of exhaustion. He reached an arm out to her, the bags under his eyes were dark and his hands that had often felt smooth and well-lotioned now looked calloused. His shirt was loose in a way that signaled to Angela that laundry hadn’t been at the forefront of his mind.   
“Hey, dad.” Her voice was soft and somewhat sad. She walked to him, wrapping her long arms around his waist and laying her head on his shoulder. He was only an inch or two taller than her but hugging her dad always made Angela feel comforted in the way a child feels when their parents hold them in a warm blanket. She pulled away from the hug, looking him in the eye, “how is she?” She meant her mother, of course.  
“She has good days and bad. She often gets confused at night.” He continued to update his daughter as he picked up her bag and began walking to the rundown station wagon. The boys ran ahead, light-heartedly arguing about who would get to sit in the front seat.

Since the last visit from the Volturi, Leah Clearwater had found ways to make peace in her life. She attended community college, got her degree in Social Work, and took up yoga as well as meditation to assist in controlling her temper issues. She doesn’t often have a need to shift these days aside from standard occasional patrol but finds it to be an unmatched form of stress-relief. She’s the fastest wolf out of everyone in either pack and never shied away from reminding the boys of it. She still hadn’t imprinted and a part of her accepted the idea that she never would. Not being in Sam’s pack helped with that more than she could express as she no longer had to be in his head or, realistically, be around him for long at all. Jacob, her new alpha, had a tendency to spend most of his time with Renesmee who was almost full-grown now. Leah still didn’t enjoy the concept of the age difference between Jacob and his imprint, despite her knowing the concept of imprinting wasn’t inherently sexual, but at least Renesmee was almost mentally and physically an adult as opposed to Quil’s imprint Claire who was still only 6 years old. Neither sat well with Leah, but she’d learned to not think about it so often. Her baby brother Seth had finally imprinted--he was 17 but would never not be a baby in the eyes of his older sister--on a sweet girl from his school. Her name was Eloise and, despite Leah’s best attempt at scrutiny, Eloise was sweeter than sugar and possibly the best match for Seth that Leah could have possibly imagined. She was a puppy in a metaphorical sense while Seth was one in a literal sense.  
It took Leah a long time to not blame herself for her father’s death and the subsequent implosion of her previously nuclear family. Now that her mom has remarried and her family is more blended than ever, she has a specific soft spot for unconventional familial stability. Her social work credentials allow her to help kids in the foster-care system--it was a job that rewarded her more and more every day. The paperwork, though, was a bit of a drag. Tonight she had planned to head over to her mom’s place. Sue was out of town but Charlie had invited her over for fish and beer.

“Charlie?” Leah called as she entered the familiar house.  
“In here!” He called. The kitchen, of course. Leah walked into the small kitchen to find Charlie cluelessly looking at a jar of panko as he has the fileted fish pieces on a plate beside him. Leah smiled, laughing as she shook her head. “I’ve almost got dinner ready.” His voice was gruff and distracted.  
“Sit down, Charlie.” Leah snickered, taking the can from his hands and opening the fridge to grab him a drink. She tossed him the beer and began breading the fish with practiced expertise. This was a routine for them. Whenever Sue went out of town or wasn’t home for dinner, Charlie would invite Leah over for a dinner that Leah would, without fail, end up making. They often didn’t need to talk--not really. It was often short statements more for the comfort of sound but the silence rarely needed more comfort. As much as Leah adored her late father, Charlie was a close second.   
“How was work?” Charlie cracked his beer, looking at a word search book Sue had purchased him as she wanted him to have in-home entertainment aside from televised sports for when she wasn’t home. He never acted interested in it when she was around--mostly because he was more interested in her.   
“It was alright. Lots of paperwork.” Leah was already nearly complete with the cooking--frying fish was easy. “You?”  
Charlie shrugged and grunted, “Caught a few people speeding.” Leah set his dinner in front of him. Life had been routine for her and, admittedly, while she enjoyed it, she still felt as though something was missing. Charlie’s expression lit up at the sight of the meal in front of him. Leah sat opposite, opening a beer for herself and looking at the paper left from that morning. They ate in silence, occasionally making gruff sounds in place of conversation. When they finished, Charlie did the dishes and Leah migrated to the living room, turning on the television only to be joined by Charlie shortly later. She opening her bag and began looking at leftover paperwork from the office. She sat on the floor by the coffee table, tucking her hair behind her ear. And such went the evenings between the young woman and her step-father.

While Angela was grateful she could help her mother, it was taxing in a way she hadn’t expected. Presently, it was primarily Mrs. Weber’s short-term memory that was fleeting, but Angela dreaded the day she may forget the names of her husband or children. Taking care of mentally-ailed mother meant staying stocked on depends underwear, waking up her mother in the middle of the night to remind her to use the bathroom, reminders for medication, for eating, taking walks, constant reminders of date, time, and weather. Today she had to, for the first time, remind her mother that her grandparents--her mother’s parents--had passed away a few years ago. Yesterday she’d complimented Angela’s class ring and asked her where she’d gotten it. Singular instances weren’t all too terrible, but they piled up fast and weighed heavily on Angela who felt a need to keep her struggles private so as not to add stress to anyone else. She tried to hide the degeneration from her brothers, too. They knew it was happening, but Angela found it more than essential that they shouldn’t have to witness the decay of her mother’s once sharp mind as she was.  
She couldn’t hide her fatigue from everyone. It had only been a month since she’d arrived home but her father could see the exhaustion weighing on her as it had him. He chose to take a few days off of his daughter’s plate, insisting she relax if only for a while. And so Angela found herself seated in a place that was previously one of her favorites: First Beach in La Push. She wore her hair done, unkempt, and wore a sweatshirt that belonged to her father. It was too large on her but the scent allowed her to think back on times before all of this. The waves crashed against the shore before her, occasionally kissing her toes. The wind was cold but the bite of it was welcome. Jessica had discovered Angela was in town when they ran into each other at the convenience store last week, but the overburdened girl swiftly avoided many of her friend’s questions by letting slip an empty promise to “catch up soon.”   
The beach was unusually vacant today with only a few locals spread out along the sandy shore. Seagulls screeched absent-mindedly and the waves left salt wafting in the air.   
“I haven’t seen Forks kids around here since school went on break.” It was a melodious female voice. Angela didn’t look towards it, resting her head on her bent knees.  
“You must not come here often enough.” Angela’s voice was half-hearted. It felt rude to not respond but she didn’t have much of a longing for conversation. The girl standing beside her, whoever it may be, laughed. Her laugh felt nice--like a warm sunbeam on a cloudy day.  
“Mind if I join you?” Angela shrugged which happened to be encouraging enough for the stranger to sit beside her. “I heard once that those who approach the sea alone are kindred souls.” Angela laughed and wiped her nose on her sleeve. Not even she realized how upset she had been but somehow the stranger knew--perhaps it was written clearly in Angela’s expression, perhaps in her posture.   
“Is that so?” Angela turned her head, still resting on her knees, to face the beautiful stranger. It was something about shoulder-to-shoulder conversations that always allowed Angela, and she assumed many others, to feel more comfortable in her woes.  
“It may be.” The woman turned her head to face Angela, mirroring her position, and then, it seems, everything changed. Something in Angela told her it was for the better.

It had, admittedly, been too long since Leah walked the La Push beach, but today felt as good as any. Everything felt like pressure lately--work, phasing, even Charlie. Walking on the beach was somewhat freeing. Nobody here had any expectations of her, Sam had his pack at Emily’s house and so nobody here even really knew who--or what--she was. She couldn’t quite explain it, but something about being at the beach felt right. She hadn’t felt this content in weeks. She couldn’t help but wonder why.  
It was then that she felt the feeling was behind her. Not as though it had passed, but as though she had passed it. As though the feeling of contentedness was in an exact location. While this felt confusing and somewhat frustrating to Leah, she tried her hardest to meditate on the feeling. Meditation, for the longest time, felt like a hoax to Leah. She even hated the phrase “meditate on it.” It was nothing against people who practiced meditation it just never felt like the right path for her--until it was. Zen was still not the way Leah had a tendency to feel, however, she had her own way of achieving that sensation of inner-peace. It had just been off-kilter, until recently. And by recently, of course, that is to say until just moments ago.  
Leah turned around. First Beach looked, all in all, the same as it always did. It was cold today--very cold. November often had that effect. The beach was primarily barren. The only thing--the only person--Leah noticed out of the ordinary was a single woman. She sat at the edge of the water. Leah wondered about her--she wasn’t from the reservation, but it felt as though she was familiar. Leah racked her brain for times she may have met her but nothing came to mind. The back of her sweatshirt revealed she was from Forks High School. Although, upon closer inspection, the year printed on the cloth would have made her far older than she appeared. Perhaps it belonged to a relative or a friend.   
It had been a long time since Leah felt this type of curiosity about a stranger. This is not to say Leah wasn’t interested in people, but rather that she didn’t tend to feel this curiosity towards them. Leah approached her, feeling as though that was assuredly the right choice. It only took a single step and a bit of focus t hear her sniffling. Her hair blew aimlessly in the wind and it was clear then and there that she didn’t come here because she felt happy elsewhere.  
Standing beside her, Leah finally spoke: “I haven’t seen a Forks kid around here since school went on break.” As soon as she said it, Leah felt, for some reason, inadequate: as though she should have said something else. Something funnier or more clever, maybe something kinder. Perhaps she should have had a tissue or absolutely anything to offer the sad heap before her.  
“You must not come here often enough.” Her voice felt somewhat vacant. It was less sad and more tired. Regardless of her tone, Leah laughed lightly. She was right, Leah didn’t come here often enough. Leah could suddenly feel the heaviness in the girl waver, and it felt nice. She wanted more than anything to make that heaviness light.  
“Mind if I join you?” Leah didn’t want to leave her. Even if they sat in silence, it was determined by the wolf that this girl was the source of her contentedness. She felt strongly that she was supposed to be here. The girl shrugged, which wasn’t exactly an agreement but it was enough for Leah. She sat down, bringing her knees close to her chest. She remembered reading years ago that holding your posture similar to the person you’re near could offer a sense of familiarity or comfort. The feeling in the air between them was still somewhat tense--this woman was still weighed down. Leah should say something. She wasn’t used to feeling nervous, it felt like a lot. “I heard once that those who approach the sea alone are kindred souls.” She wanted to slam her palm into her face. It felt too spiritual for her to say, too serious for the setting. Why would she say that? There were so many other options. The laugh emitted next to her suddenly brought back the feeling of contentedness. This was good. This was why Leah sat here.  
“Is that so?” There was a playfulness to her tone now, one that wasn’t there before. Leah smiled under her breath and out of the corner of her eye she noticed the girl having had turned her head to face Leah. This was it. Her in. She could bring that comfortable feeling home.  
“It may be.” She smiled a twitch more and mirrored her companion once more, laying her head on her knees to face the stranger. She looked into her eyes and suddenly the warmth in her body grew insurmountably. This stranger: her eyes were puffy, her nose tinted red, her cheeks were tear-stained, but never had Leah seen anything--anyone--so beautiful. She never wanted to leave this spot with her, she never wanted to leave her. Suddenly nothing else mattered but making her feel joy, happiness, anything. In the simplest words: the purest love Leah had ever experienced was happening in this moment. She had imprinted.


End file.
